The Masquerade of Dreaming
by londonlabyrinth
Summary: Two years after Sarah's journey through Labyrinth, Sarah remembers her dreams and what was sacrificed. She remembers it. She remembers Him. One-shot post-Labyrinth.


Dancing. Everything was dancing.

Moving images of velvet and silk, dripping dyed hues of goldenrod, moonshine silver, and starry blue, whipped quickly in and out of her peripheral. With each passing turn of colors, she caught a glimpse of deranged faces. Goblins with long, crooked noses. Fairies with pointy, angular cheekbones. Trolls with rolling hills of skin below their chins. Again and again they twirled by her, throwing their twisted heads back in laughter as she stood frozen in disorientation. Her wandering eyes searched for something, someone, hidden in the snow white canopy that surrounded the dancers. She had to find it. She had to find him. Again.

Two goblin women parted during a shared cackle, a dancer waltzed past, and there it was. There he was. Her dreams took form before her. What she knew, just knew, she would find was staring back at her, as menacing as the images that quickly materialized in the floating orbs of crystal. He was there, in all of his dangerous, poisonous glory. He smirked at her, knowing her weakness. She told this story to herself so many times, always declaring the love that the Goblin King had for the girl.

She would never say, out loud, the love the girl had for the Goblin King.

There he was; his warm breath on her face and his gloved hand slipping around her waist. His hand rested naturally at the small of her back, while his other hand grasped hers. This was it; the moment she had fantasized of so many times. In her daydreaming adolescence, this was the only image she could conjure of her understanding and acceptance of love and lust. Her Goblin King, Thief of innocent thoughts and Ruler of her infatuation, was holding her close, pressing his lithe, muscular form to compliment hers. She had never been held by a man before. Her refusal to leave her fairy stories and progress to maturity left her behind the curve of teenage hormones. Now her face flushed hot; her cheeks glowing crimson as she felt the curve of his torso and smelled his musk. He smelled like the wind during a thunderstorm. Frightening and cooling. Electric and fast. He rocked her from side to side as they began a waltz. Her dizzying thoughts manifested into the quick steps their bodies made. She was there. It was there. He was there.

"Sarah" he called her, voice sounding husk as he shared her confused desires.

She was there for a reason. What brought her here?

His hand flexed on her back, bringing the partners closer. Her breath hitched as she was forced to bring her attention back to his piercing eyes.

What was she looking for? Was this another daydream?

"I'll be there for you as the world falls down". He penetrated her gaze his words she had only allowed to think of once. It was too much to construct a perfect man in her dreams and have him love her. His deep, musky scent began to overwhelm her. She could only see his eyes. She could only feel his body against hers.

She could only hear his words and she feared that if she spoke, she could only mutter "please".

The striking of a clock caught her focus. There was never a clock in her dream.

_Dong, Dong..._

She was searching for something.

_Dong, Dong..._

Only so much time until it was too late.

_Dong, Dong..._

Too much was taken for granted. She had to save it.

_Dong, Dong..._

She had to save someone. Someone important.

_Dong, Dong..._

The dream began to burst at the seams. The spinning was too quick. The faces were too hideous. His eyes were too cold.

_Dong, Dong..._

She was trapped. She had to escape to save it. To save him.

She grabbed a chair and blindly crashed her dream, her desire, into millions of fractures. The dancers shrieked. The world collapsed. She turned to look at him. Heartbroken, he only sighed her name.

"Sarah".

* * *

Sarah opened her eyes to see her brother Toby sitting at the dining room table next to her. Her father and Karen sat in silence as they finished their breakfast. Toby giggled at a comic he was reading while piling his mouth full of a waffle. Sarah stared at her black coffee, feeling sick and broken.

She was eighteen. She was alive and her brother Toby was happily safe. She gave up her dreams, her wishes, and her desires for this moment. She gave a small smile at her brother, wanting to feel anything but numb at the choices she made. Her life was set in front of her. No castles, no crystals, no Him. She took a large gulp of her coffee before excusing herself from the table and moving her way to her room. She sat at her vanity and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were tired, the mahogany color had been replaced by a lifeless, dull brown. Her skin looked sallow and pulled too far across her cheekbones and nose. Her lips parted in a permanent frown.

She called out to her friends. She thought of her family. Alone she sat. No one came to her aid. No one knew the sacrifice she made. Tears pooled in her eyes, the last of so many that filled to the brim and spilled over and down her cheek. She called her friends again. A connection, any type of connection, to that world was all she wanted. She thought of her dad. She thought of Karen. She thought most of Toby. He was happy. He was safe. This was enough. She owed no more.

She called her friends one more time. She did not begrudge their lack of response; it was she who cut ties so soon after the events. Her dreams would not stop and she had to move past them to function in society. He tone had begun to sound pleading and she felt desperation rise in her. It was too little. She could not go without that world. She could not go without magic. She could not go without him. Her last strand of resistance was severed.

"I wish the Goblins would come and take me away, right now."

The room went dark. Sarah gasped.

"Sarah".


End file.
